


Mrs. Poindexter

by flipmeforward



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Marriage Proposal, this is soft af
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25485811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipmeforward/pseuds/flipmeforward
Summary: “I--Derek, are youproposing, on the subway, using the wordsI wouldn’t mind?”Derek is about to protest, but then he thinks back, and realizes that he may, in fact, have been proposing. Sort of.“No?” he tries, anyway. Dex’s only response is a single raised eyebrow. Okay. “But also kind of yes? Sorry?”
Relationships: Derek "Nursey" Nurse/William "Dex" Poindexter
Comments: 24
Kudos: 281





	Mrs. Poindexter

**Author's Note:**

> i saw [this post](https://www.instagram.com/p/CCB1M5WpC2s/) on instagram and then i just ... went with it. i'm still sort of riding the high of being able to write again.
> 
> this is sorta flimsy, fairly cute, and was very fun to write :)

Derek doesn’t see the actual invite until the night before the event. When he does see it, he’s pretty sure Dex has kept it away from him for fear of him _going all Shitty_ on the institution that is Dex’s new employer, and okay, that’s fair, but it also makes him sort of ... nervous? 

“How fancy is this thing?” Derek asks on Monday night. They’re on the couch, as usual, Dex is flipping through TED talks and Derek is laying down with his head in Dex’s lap, reading a book that’s turning out to be increasingly boring and badly written. Dex has one hand tangled in Derek’s hair, absentmindedly scratching his scalp. Derek’s thoughts are drifting. 

“Hm?” Dex says. 

“This thing on Saturday. How fancy is it? Like, what’s the dress code?” 

Dex had told him a few weeks ago that they’d been invited to a function at the university, that they were both free according to their calendars, and that he’d intended to RSVP yes, unless Derek had any objections? Which Derek didn’t. Dex’s had his doctorate for a couple of years now, they’ve attended a fair amount of academic functions and events, Derek is used to them. This is their first one at Columbia, though, so he wants to make sure they follow proper etiquette, to not draw even _more_ attention to the fact that they’re two men. It shouldn’t be an issue, but like, better safe than sorry, in this case. 

“Black tie, I guess?” Dex says, frowning down at him. “Why?” 

“Yeah, but is it like, strict black tie, don’t even think about wearing pink socks, or is it like, creative black tie?” Derek very much hopes it’s the latter, because Dex looks _so good_ with the forest green tie. 

“Babe, I don’t know.” 

“Can you check? I just need to know if I need to, like, cut my hair.” He’s growing it out, and it’s already long enough to put in a ponytail. 

Dex’s grip on his hair hardens. “Don’t you dare,” a warning in his voice. Derek smirks up at him. 

“ _Chill_. I won’t. But just--” 

“Yeah, I’ll check.” 

Derek is satisfied with that, and returns to his book. 

* 

On Friday, the night before, Dex has his D&D night, so Derek does his goodnight sweep of the apartment alone; checks that all the windows are closed and locked, all the lights are turned off. He hesitates in the doorway of the office/library/guest/glorified storage room. Dex is not a neat freak by any means, but he does keep his desk immaculate, so when there’s an envelope on it, it’s pretty hard to miss. It looks fancy. 

Derek picks it up, and it’s not until his second read that he even catches it. 

_Dr. and Mrs. William Poindexter_

It’s a mistake, Derek knows it, it’s a sloppy copy paste error because they’ve used the same template a million times, but it _is_ also sort of rude. They’re not even married (yet), so the whole thing just feels awfully presumptuous, and Derek understands why this particular invite hasn’t been tacked to the fridge like usual. They will get married. Probably. There’s just been--Dex’s PhD, Derek’s teaching certificate, Derek trying to properly get control over his anxieties, time has just ... passed. But Derek at least lives with the _assumption_ that they will get married. One day. 

He puts the envelope back, goes to bed, and doesn’t say anything about it when Dex gets home and crawls into bed next to him. 

* 

Luckily, the dress code is more creative than formal, and Derek would be ashamed of how much he stares at Dex if he wasn’t so incredibly handsome. 

“You have to stop,” Dex mutters under his breath the fifth time he catches Derek staring at him in as many minutes. 

“Why? I’m your wife, I’m allowed,” Derek says with a smirk. Dex starts rolling his eyes but stops halfway through the motion and stares sharply at Derek. 

“What?” 

“You left the invitation on your desk,” Derek says and presses a light kiss to Dex’s cheek, a reassuring _I’m not mad about this and won’t make a scene_ gesture. 

“I corrected them when I RSVP’d, and they apologized,” Dex says anyway, eyeing Derek sort of warily. 

“Good. Oh, can I read the email? Would Shitty be proud of it?” 

“Shitty would be embarrassed about how polite I was, but Shitty isn’t in a queer relationship and doing his first six months at Columbia, so I don’t really care.” 

Derek grins at him. “I love you,” he says, aware that he’s probably looking like a lovesick puppy. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Dex replies, but gives him a kiss. “Come on, I want you to meet the guys I work with,” he says and takes Derek’s hand and starts guiding him through the room. 

“You gonna introduce me as your wife?” 

“Yes, because that would make perfect sense after talking about my boyfriend for the past two months,” Dex agrees, rolling his eyes again. 

“Oh, so you talk about your boyfriend at work, but not your wife? Rude,” Derek says, just as they arrive in front of a group of people who seem to know Dex. They get a couple of raised eyebrows, and Dex glares at him. 

“Derek, these are my coworkers. Guys, this is Derek, the idiot I’m dating.” 

“ _Dating_ , William, really?” Derek scoffs. “We’ve been living together for ten years, and you haven’t taken me out on a date since my birthday, which was _in February_. That hardly classifies as _dating_. Hi,” he adds, addressing the group with a smile. 

Dex shakes his head in exasperation, but lets it go. Derek squeezes his hand in thanks. 

* 

“I wouldn’t mind, you know,” Derek mumbles sleepily when they’re seated on the subway home, hours later. He’s a bit buzzed on wine and champagne, but he’s not drunk. He wants to rest his head on Dex’s shoulder but he’s too tall for that to actually be comfortable, so he settles for leaning close, probably preens a little when Dex slides an arm around his waist. 

“Wouldn’t mind what?” Dex asks. 

“Being your wife,” Derek says. He feels Dex go completely still against him, and when he turns to look at him, all the leftover amusement from the champagne buzz has left him and he’s staring at Derek with a Very Serious face. 

“What?” Dex says, and Derek can’t tell if he’s just confused or if he’s also mad. Derek is wide awake now, at least. He opens his mouth to say something, but he can’t figure out what. 

“What?” he settles on, echoing it back. 

“I--Derek, are you _proposing_ , on the subway, using the words _I wouldn’t mind_?” 

Derek is about to protest, but then he thinks back, and realizes that he may, in fact, have been proposing. Sort of. 

“No?” he tries, anyway. Dex’s only response is a single raised eyebrow. Okay. “But also kind of yes? Sorry?” 

Dex sighs, puts his other arm around Derek as well and hugs him, tight. “You’re a fucking idiot,” he says. 

“That’s not an answer,” Derek observes. He’s not too worried, though. The situation doesn’t feel like a No. 

“You technically didn’t ask a question,” Dex says. He lets Derek go and settles back, one arm still around Derek’s waist. “And besides, if I don’t answer, we can pretend this didn’t happen, and you can get a do-over. I refuse to have C chirp me for this for the rest of our lives.” 

“C has _zero_ chirping rights when it comes to proposals,” Derek says indignantly. “He didn’t even propose, Cait found the ring in his fucking sock drawer!” 

“Do you even have a ring?” Dex counters, which shuts Derek up, but that’s also partly because they’ve reached their stop and need to get off. 

Neither of them says anything until they’re up on the street. It’s cold, and Derek forgot his gloves, so he puts one hand in his coat pocket and grabs Dex’s hand with the other. 

“Will,” Derek says after a few seconds, which makes Dex stop. Derek is suddenly extremely nervous, even though he knows, with every logical bone in his brain (whatever), that he has nothing to worry about. “When I get a ring, and ask you for real ... are you gonna say yes?” 

Dex tugs him so close that their chests are touching. With the hand not holding Derek’s, he cups his cheek and kisses him, sweetly. “ _Yes_ , Derek,” he says, softly, privately. “I’m gonna say yes.” 

_fin~_

**Author's Note:**

> [here's this thing on tumblr](https://flipmeforward.tumblr.com/post/624526242981576704/mrs-poindexter-dexnursey-pg-13) in case you want to reblog and spread the word or w/e


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